


Queen in Exile

by Eida



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/F, Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:55:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eida/pseuds/Eida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan Pevensie never truly forgot her days in Narnia.</p><p>But she makes what concessions she must, to live in this world--and she learns to find joy where she can.</p><p>(A series of drabbles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen in Exile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VanillaMostly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaMostly/gifts).



> Hello! Thank you for providing an intriguing prompt, and I hope you enjoy this fic.

1\. Queen in Exile

She remembered being a Queen.

Of course she did, for all that she had tried to believe that it had all been just another childish game of pretend. It was easier that way. All children liked to imagine themselves the rulers and heroes of some fantasy land. And, of course, all children eventually had to leave these things behind. That was just a natural part of growing up.

It was far easier to think of it in those terms than to accept the truth: that she had been exiled, cast out by the Lion she had once loved and trusted.

 

2\. Lipstick and Nylons

She tended to her appearance like a work of art--her hair arranged just so, the seams of her nylons perfectly straight, her lips tinted in her favorite shade of red.

There were times when it felt like beauty was the only remnant she had of those sunlit days in Cair Paravel. Once, kings and princes had sought her hand in marriage. She hadn't returned their desire.

Some desired her here, as well. But what she desired...

Some called women like her "inverts"—unnatural, immoral, not truly women at all.

Lipstick and nylons were part comfort, part disguise, part denial.

 

3\. Loss

She'd tried to get her siblings to see sense.

They had helped save Narnia, twice, and they'd been rewarded with banishment. Why cling to a world that didn't want them?

They'd refused; they'd kept up their meetings with Eustace, Professor Kirke, and Polly Plummer. Worse, they'd thought her foolish--foolish, for trying to fit into the world she lived in, instead of dreaming of the one she'd lost!

And now they were gone, all of them; she had no one left who shared her memories of the land she'd once loved—memories which refused to fade entirely, despite her efforts.

 

4\. The Path Paved

"You'd really like him," Carol promised, her fingers clicking on the keys of her typewriter. "I could introduce you. My fiancé is throwing a get-together this Saturday evening. Can you make it?"

Susan's fingers hovered over her own typewriter for a moment. "I'm afraid I'm busy," said Susan. "But it's kind of you to offer."

Susan wondered how long she could keep dodging these well-meaning attempts at getting her properly outfitted with a husband, and then children.

She wondered, sometimes, if even she—once a hero, once brave, once a Queen of Narnia—would be forced to buckle to the world's expectations.

 

5\. Arrow

They met at the archery range.

Susan had fallen sadly out of practice; she resolved to rectify that. Archery was something she'd been good at, and something that reminded her of better days.

Susan had mistaken the person standing next to her for a man at first, with her short hair and the way she held herself.

The other woman had grinned at her before taking aim at the target. An impromptu, unannounced competition began; Susan won, though it was rather close, and the other woman had smiled wider, offered her hand to shake, and introduced herself as Audrey Fletcher.

 

6\. Invitations

They began arranging to meet in other places--for coffee, or for lunch. Two single women, socializing.

It was a delicate dance--Susan developed certain suspicions, rather quickly, but how might she confirm them without revealing too much of herself, in case she was wrong?

Before work one Friday morning, over coffee, Audrey mentioned a little club she frequented--would Susan, perhaps, accompany her this evening?

Susan nodded. "Of course. What time?"

That evening, with Audrey at her side, Susan stepped into a smoky room full of women, and knew she'd found something she'd never known she was searching for.

 

7\. New Waters

There were roles here, too, in this parallel world. Butch, femme. Short hair and trousers; dresses and makeup. The two went together--sometimes Susan wondered whether to think of it as an imitation of the larger, heterosexual world, or as something new and wonderful, a culture in and of itself, developed by and for the women who loved women. Perhaps a bit of both.

She slipped into the role of femme fairly easily. It suited her well enough.

She learned the way of things--Susan had always been good at navigating through unknown social waters—and, in time, she flourished.

 

8\. Gallant

Every day, Susan fell a little more in love.

She loved the freckles on Audrey's cheeks, her curly auburn hair, her dimples when she smiled. She loved the way Audrey would slip an arm around her waist when they were in safe company. She loved Audrey's laugh, how cheerful she was, and how she'd sometimes slip into a sort of gallantry--holding the door open with a little flourish, pulling out Susan's chair, offering an arm to help her down, always with a shine in her eyes that said doing these things was no imposition, but a joy and honor.

 

9\. Cooking

Of the two of them, Audrey was undoubtedly the better cook.

Susan was adequate enough in the kitchen, but she didn't especially enjoy it. Audrey clearly did--and she was quite good at it, too, even under the rationing still in effect in the early 50s.

"My mother was always a wizard in the kitchen," Audrey explained over a shared meal one evening. "We had to make do sometimes when I was growing up--but we never felt too deprived at the table, thanks to her."

It was the first time, Susan realized later, that Aubrey had mentioned her family.

 

10\. Family

Susan had been reluctant to ask. Still, the conversation eventually wound around to family.

"Growing up, my father was a mechanic," Audrey said. "Though we had some hard times when he got hurt. He couldn't work for a while--my mother picked some secretary work to keep us afloat."

"Did you have any siblings?" Susan asked.

"No. Might've had a brother--but something went wrong. He came too soon, and after, my mother couldn't have any more." Audrey shrugged. "I always wondered what it would've been like. Being an older sister."

"You would have been a good one," said Susan.

 

11\. Family, Continued

"What about you?" Aubrey asked. "What was your family like?"

Susan tried to paint a picture of them as they'd once been. Stories poured out of her that she hadn't thought about in years.

"I'm sorry, you're probably sick of hearing me go on--it's just... I lost them all at once. A bit over two years ago." Susan swallowed.

Aubrey gently placed a hand over Susan's. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could have met them."

 _I wish so, too,_ thought Susan--though she wondered what they would have made of Aubrey, and Susan's relationship with her.

 

12\. Reminiscence

Susan remembered pretending to be a princess when she'd been small. As she'd grown, she'd turned to more practical matters, especially as she came to embrace the role of big sister to Edmund and Lucy. She had quite outgrown the concept years before entering Narnia—and then, of course, she'd become a queen.

Somehow, Susan couldn't imagine Audrey ever aspiring to princesshood. Perhaps she'd pretended to be a knight, instead—Susan paused to imagine Audrey, in shining armor, astride a fine horse.

She wondered if there would have been a place for Audrey—for the both of them—in Narnia.

 

13\. Secrets

Susan had grown to hate secrets.

She hated the secret of Narnia that had isolated her from her siblings before their deaths.

She hated the secret of her own love for women that seemed to isolate her from the normal world, where men married women, and that was supposed to be the natural order of things.

She hated the fact that, even in places where she could be open with the latter--even with Audrey--she could never speak of the former.

Most of the time, her old coping mechanism--pretending Narnia never happened--worked well enough.

But not always.

 

14\. Script

Susan began to write in her spare time.

She scribbled ideas into a little notebook, tapped away at her typewriter.

If she couldn't tell the truth, she'd put bits and pieces of it into fiction. It was a pressure valve, of sorts; something to ease the stress of living with a past she could never reveal.

She spun stories of a brave girl who found her way into a magical kingdom full of dryads, dwarves, and noble talking animals--where she met, and befriended, a young lady-knight-in-training.

Simple. Childish, perhaps. Still, it eased something in her heart.

 

15\. Possibilities

Susan had accidentally left out a pile of papers on the table when Audrey came to visit her flat one evening.

Audrey picked up a paper, glanced over it... then picked up the next.

"This is pretty good," she said. "Are you writing a book? I'd probably have loved something like this when I was younger."

"Ah, well, it's..." Susan trailed off, blushing. "I wasn't planning on trying to publish, or anything. It's just... sort of a hobby." And a childish one, Susan thought.

"Well, maybe you should think about it," Audrey said, and for the first time, Susan did.

 

16\. Ideals and Reality

She submitted her first children's story to a number of publishers before she received anything other than a straight rejection.

It was a letter of interest--but the publishers felt that the young knight-in-training the protagonist was friends with ought to be a boy, instead. It would appeal more to the audience.

Susan considered this for several days. In the end, she conceded.

It felt like another lie. But having the additional book income would be a great help. Besides, she still had the original drafts--she'd hold onto them. One day, perhaps, others would appreciate them, too.

 

17\. Practicality

It was, of course, the height of practicality for two single women to live together.

Two incomes together could afford a nicer flat than one, after all.

And if anyone suspected...

Well, the landlord of the particular flat she and Audrey had chosen wouldn't be a problem on that front, nor would his wife. Susan had gathered that, married though they might be, they didn't share a bed, and had an agreement--each would, discreetly, seek their own lovers of their preferred sex.

Such arrangements weren't uncommon. But Susan thought she'd rather not add yet another fiction to her life.

 

18\. A Dream, and an Ending

She dreamed of Narnia, one night, for the first time in years

The dream was a disjointed series of fragments: walking through the woods—sipping some ambrosial-tasting beverage at a lively gala—speaking with fauns and dryads--

When she woke, an odd phrase stuck with her— _Further up and further in_.

She sat up. Sunlight streamed through the windows.

 _I don't regret having gone there,_ she thought.

She glanced over to the other side of the bed, where Audrey still laid, snoring softly.

_But... _she thought.__

_I don't regret having returned, either._


End file.
